


To the Kid from Brooklyn

by andrastesgrace (RoxieFlash), gallifreyslostson



Series: Family Assembled [8]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-05
Updated: 2015-11-05
Packaged: 2018-04-30 04:14:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5149889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoxieFlash/pseuds/andrastesgrace, https://archiveofourown.org/users/gallifreyslostson/pseuds/gallifreyslostson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The survivors cope with the loss of Steve Rogers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To the Kid from Brooklyn

Howard was waiting anxiously by the radio in the ops tent when the first survivors stumbled in. He’d been poised for extraction, but this was better.  If there were survivors to come back, then they must have beaten Freaky Face.

But if that was the case, they should be happier.  Shouldn’t they?  Even Dugan only shook his head when he saw Howard, retreating to a corner and taking his hat off to stare at it silently.  An eerie feeling spread over him, kind of cold and hot at the same time, making him shaky and nauseous until he saw Colonel Phillips and pushed it aside.

“Colonel!  Colonel, what happened?  Did we beat him?  Did we win?”

Colonel Phillips stared at him a second, then sighed and clapped him on the arm as he passed. “Yeah, son.  We won.  One day, that might be enough.”

“Heavy casualties?” he asked, and the colonel paused.  Howard swallowed, trying not to run down the mental list of people he could lose and people he  _couldn’t_ lose–

“Yeah,” the colonel said after a moment, then turned back to Howard with a sober look.  “Mister Stark, I know you two were close, and I am deeply sorry to be the one to tell you this–”

– _not Peggy not Peggy please not Peggy she’s the only dame who thinks I’m worth a damn without needing a sleepover and a bracelet she’d kill me if I tried not Peggy–_

“Captain Steve Rogers was killed in the line of duty when the plane he’d commandeered appeared to crash into the ocean.”

“No,” Howard said, shaking his head as he felt the world tilt.  “No, that’s not possible.  He got out, he had to have, he’s in the ocean, he can survive that, I know he can, I helped make him, we’ve just got to find him, I just need a rescue team–”

“Howard.”  He spun at the sound of Peggy’s voice, and blood roared in his ears as she shook her head, her arms wrapped around herself and her eyes still red.  He suddenly felt cold again, just cold, and weirdly insulated, as if he’d been dropped into a clear tank of water, so that every sight and sound was distorted and distant and made no fucking sense.  “I tried to send for you, but there was no time.  I’m sorry Howard.  He’s gone.”

He was dimly aware that he was shaking his head again as she looked down, her hand covering her mouth as she tried not to cry.  It wasn’t supposed to end like this, not like  _this_ , with Peggy Carter in tears and Steve–Howard took a breath and glanced around with burning eyes, fighting the bile in his throat.

“Think of it this way, Stark,” Phillips said, putting a hand on Howard’s shoulder.  “Your experiment was a success.  You and Erskine manufactured a hero.”

“No,” Howard said, burying his hands in his pockets and looking at the ground.  “No one can manufacture that.  All we did was make it a little easier for him.  Everything else–”

“He was just Steve,” Peggy added when he lost his words, and he looked up at her, staring at her a moment before nodding and turning away.

He wasn’t entirely sure how much time he spent wandering around the camp; the numbness settling over him denied him any sense of time or proportion.  Bits of conversation over the last few years played through his head, a record skipping tracks at random.

***

_“He’s dead because of me.”_

_“Don’t flatter yourself.  He’s dead because the Senator didn’t do his homework on his guests.”_

***

_“You know, you look good in tights.”_

_“You know, I haven’t actually tested how hard I can hit someone.”_

***

_“You’re the one who was all about…fondue with her.”_

_“Just bread and cheese, my friend.”_

***

_“I need a ride, Stark.”_

_“Where to?”_

_“Victory.”_

_“You read the comics, didn’t you?”_

_“Maybe a couple.”_

_***_

_“Come on, Stark.  Hydra’s not going to take itself out.”_

_“Don’t you have an off button?”_

_“Only if you installed one.”_

_“I don’t remember, it’s blurry.  Maybe you should ask Peggy to check.”_

_“Get in the plane, Stark.”_

***

_“Stark, get out of here!  There’s no point in you getting killed too!”_

_“Like hell!  And for the record, I was happier when I could live with that justification.”_

***

_“You know the rules, Cap.  I do the drinking, you do the decent person schtick.”_

_“I dunno.  Keep it up, you might put me out of a job.”_

_“Bite your tongue.”_

***

_“I’m no hero.  Just a kid who got lucky and met a guy with a magic potion.”_

_“Happy to oblige.”_

***

_“Listen, Stark, if this goes sideways, and it might–”_

_“Don’t.”_

_“Howard, look out for her.  And look out for you.  You’re more than a millionaire playboy genius.”_

_“Hey, quiet down, don’t let that get around.  I’ll come after you myself.”_

***

On and on, over and over, fragments of time when he felt like he was part of something good. Sure, he was helping the allied forces in the war effort, but it was more than that.  It was this one ragtag group of nobodies put together by a guy who shouldn’t have survived through high school, but they were something. All those moments where Steve laughed and shook his head in exasperation or proved to be just little more than the man with the patriotic shield.

Everything in Howard rebelled from the notion that he’d never see Steve Rogers again.

Eventually, he spotted Peggy again.  She was staring into the fire with her back to him, and he paused, debating his options. He could go to her, try to talk to her, but what could he say?  No matter how he…thought of Steve, it wasn’t the same, it could never compare. He’d lost a friend, but she’d lost a whole future.  How could he possibly make that better?

He was about to turn away again when he saw Colonel Phillips approaching from her side, and he hesitated.

“How you doing, kid?”

Peggy glanced up as Phillips sat down next to her, then shrugged as she looked back at the fire. “Alright, I suppose. Considering.”

“Yeah.”  They were both quiet a minute, lost in their own worlds and the flames.  “You know,” the colonel said finally, not looking at her, “it took me a long time to figure out why Erskine picked him.  He was a skinny sack of nothing, a hundred pounds soaking wet, HE…was not what I signed up for.  But I’ll be damned if that kid didn’t surprise me every time, every time he wasn’t supposed to survive and he did it anyway.  And you know, I keep waiting for him to surprise me again.  Can’t help it.  But I’ll tell you what, even if he doesn’t make it back this time, it takes a lot to do what he did.  He accomplished something that nothing else in this stupid war could.  He proved that there was more than just guts to being a good soldier, and a good man.  He was GOOD, Peggy.  And he was proud of that.  And if he’s dead, he died doing GOOD.  So we can be proud of him too.“

“Yeah,” she agreed after a second, her voice thick.  “Yeah, we can.”

Howard was leaning on a tree, watching from the darkness, as Dugan approached with cups and a bottle of bootleg whiskey, a few other commandos following behind him, and poured them all a drink without a word.  Once the first one went down, he managed to propose a toast:

“To Captain Steve Rogers,” Dugan said, holding up his cup.  “The kid from Brooklyn.”

_He was just Steve._

Howard turned away as they clinked their cups, a new fire in his veins.  They could toast and make all the speeches they wanted.  He was going to find Steve, whatever shape he was in. Because the world needed Captain America.

And they needed Steve Rogers.


End file.
